


Along for the Ride

by PurpleButtons0203



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Do not repost, Everyone is Bisexual, Ganondorf is 26, Gratuitous Violence, Hylia is kind of a dick, Infatuation, Link (Legend of Zelda) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Multi, Pining, Polyamory, Post-Breath of the Wild, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Breath of the Wild, Smitten Ganondorf, Zelda (Legend of Zelda) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Zelda is 21 btw and Link is 22, do not copy to another site, he disappeared before the events of game canon and they never met him, hes in love but hes denying it, i cant believe i forgot that fucking tag its the literal cornerstone of the fic, its complicated i promise we'll get there eventually, neither of them know who ganondorf is or how hes connected to demise, seriously guys link and zelda are not good at not killing things, she doesn't listen, sheikah technology, that way its not gross nintendo. fuck you, they've been through some shit yall, which is why yknow theyre not attacking him on sight
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2020-10-19 09:43:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20655155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurpleButtons0203/pseuds/PurpleButtons0203
Summary: They're exhausted, they're stressed, they're Link and Zelda, and they're 1,140 years in the past. Either Hylia is having fun beating this dead horse or they're somehow still spitting out money.King Ganondorf, leader of the Gerudo people, has his life changed forever when he, his guards, and his mothers are saved from a silver Lynel by two vicious, capable, and very attractive Hylians.Set in the Breath of the Wild universe. I've run canon through a cheese grater. Buckle up!





	1. "What the fuck is happening," ask Local Adventuring Duo, "We didn't sign up for this".

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all know how many other Legend of Zelda fics are tagged as time travel on this website? Nine. There's been two entire   
LOZ games that involve time travel as a basic mechanic. You'd think more people would pick up on how much we could do with that. I'm writing this story because I'm a petty bitch and also I love time travel, GanZeLink, and Breath of the Wild, and the idea of the Breath of the Wild universe trying to cope with the effects of time travel. Here ya go.
> 
> THERE WILL BE NO NON-CON OR DUB-CON in this story between the members of the main triad. They're all consenting adults. Rip to some of y'all but I'm different.
> 
> This story was beta'd by my lovely girlfriend, Vodkassassin. Thanks babe for encouraging my wild bullshit. I love you!
> 
> Hit me up on tumblr @purple-sea-dragon if you have any questions!

Ganondorf isn’t prepared for even a red Lynel, let alone the silver that paces back and forth in front of the canyon’s entrance. They’re far enough away that he hopes it won’t notice them, crouched behind a hill and trying to keep the horses calm.

“When did it get here?” Senef asks, crouched next to him. She’s one of his three main bodyguards for this journey, armed to the teeth along with her sisters Nimaul and Renaste. They’re all on his personal guard rotation, some of the strongest warriors the Gerudo have to offer, and he knows that even if the four of them charge that Lynel together they’re dead. They’re just not prepared to face a monster this dangerous, not now when they’re travelling through what is supposed to be safe territory with his aging mothers, Koume and Kotake.

“Who knows?” he mutters, hand on his saber hilt, eyes never leaving the beast. “But we can’t fight it. We’re not strong enough, not at the end of this journey and with night falling as fast as it is.” They freeze as the Lynel’s head whips towards them, not daring to breathe until the monster resumes it’s pacing. He curses their rotten luck. They were supposed to be back in Gerudo town by now!

“We’re completely outmatched,” Senef curses, quieter than before. “What do we do, your majesty?”

Ganondorf, king of the Gerudo and ruler of the desert, living proof of the blessing of the goddess Dinraal, shakes his head and says “I have no fucking idea.”

It’s then, just a second later, that he hears the enraged roar of the Lynel, and his heart freezes in his chest. They whip towards it, fingers tightening around their weapons, but the beast isn’t paying attention to them.

Darting across the flat plain of the grassland are two small blonde figures, dressed in blue and white and black, stark against the sandy browns of the dead grass and the dusty ground. They’re running low to the ground, moving in front of and behind each other, dodging the Lynel’s arrows like it’s child’s play and not a matter of life and death. They pause momentarily when the Lynel stops shooting, maybe thirty feet away, and as the monster pulls out it’s sword and shield, one of the figures jumps on the back of the other and uses it as a springboard to rocket nearly sixty feet into the air and pulls out a bow. The other figure, still on the ground, uses the momentum of what must have been an incredibly strong kick to their back and throws themself at the Lynel, ducking under a powerful slash and getting a few very good hits to its equine legs before it rolls past and flips around. The flying figure, which he can now see is wearing a half mask in the Sheikah style, summons an arrow made of what can only be divine light, and uses it to pierce the beasts shoulder, ripping it’s right arm off with a spray of black blood. The monster lets out a deafening, enraged shriek, which the two warriors answered in kind with screams of their own. Two more arrows find their mark in the beast’s torso, and as the archer hits the ground, the figure with the sword does a sort of sideways flip onto the back of the Lynel, riding it like a horse as they shove their sword through the back of the thing’s throat. They yank sideways, severing the monster’s spinal cord, and with a spray of black blood and another deft flip, they’re standing next to their archer companion, none the worse for wear except for a spattering of dark fluid across their blade and arm. This one, Ganondorf notes, also has a mask, but it’s slipped down, showing a strong jaw and chiseled cheekbones and a straight, Hylian nose. The swordsman- and it is a man, Ganondorf can see that now- holds his fist straight out at his companion, and the archer, who Gan thinks might be a woman (Hylians, his mothers once said, are extremely casual about their gender presentation but he can see this one is wearing female clothes, so a woman it is) taps their own closed fist against it, first on top, then underneath, and then knuckle to knuckle. Some sort of code? They watch, dispassionately, as the Lynel bursts into a noxious purple cloud, and then the man gathers the monster’s remains and weapons as the woman brings out a small stone tablet, and then the loot just vanishes. He hears someone gasp behind him, but the two figures (“Hylians! Look at their ears!” Nimaul squeals) seem completely unfazed.

The fragile peace is shattered by Senef. “THAT WAS AMAZING!” she crows, throwing herself over the hill and nearly tripping over her own feet as she rushes towards the two warriors, bouncing excitedly.

“Senef!” he barks, standing as well. She halts instantly, still some feet away. He hears the rest of his party coming behind him as well, eager to get a look at their two small saviors. He catches up with her, brushing a hand across her shoulder as she falls in behind him. It’s a good thing he stopped her, he realizes because the two Hylians are both still wild with battle fever, taking half steps backwards and shifting lower at the perceived threat Ganondorf’s party presents. The male Hylian bares his teeth at Ganondorf, and the king sees that his canines are abnormally long.

It’s a good thing his sirwal is rather loose, Ganon notes absently as he looks between the two small, dangerously tense warriors squaring up to his guards. His rather unfortunate… interest might be visible otherwise. He’s coming down from a rush of adrenaline and fear, too, which certainly doesn’t help. Capable, beautiful people have always been his type, and he doesn’t think he’s seen a pair this deadly or finely sculpted in a long while. The woman hooks a finger under her mask and yanks it below her chin, baring her face to his eyes and her teeth in a silent challenge that echoes her partner. She is just as beautiful as her companion, with a heart shaped face and a pair of full lips. Their eyes, bluer than the sapphires that decorate his armor, are locked on him.

He lets his hands fall, loose and empty and clearly visible at his sides. “ _ Vasaaq _ , friends. That was quite the impressive kill you just managed.” Renaste automatically translates his words into Hylian. A ruse they put on for the Hylian Court, pretending he can’t speak their language, one they find hard to drop even in the grasslands of their own kingdom, far from the castle. The two warriors shift towards each other but said nothing, eyes still fixed on him. “Are either of you injured?” 

“We’re fine,” the woman says flatly, in _ Gerudo _ , fingers twitching though thankfully not reaching for her bow. The two of them just took out a silver Lynel in  _ seven hits _ . If they decided to kill him there’s nothing he or any of his companions could do, not even his mothers. It shouldn’t be an attractive thought. “D’you need something?”

“I merely wish to thank you for taking care of a dangerous enemy,” he says gently, letting Renaste fall silent and smiling slightly as the battle rage in their eyes settles a bit at his tone and the nonthreatening aura he’s trying to project. “We would be in quite a bit of trouble if you had not appeared when you did. For that, you have my sincere gratitude.”

The male Hylian nudges her and makes several gestures. The woman nods and says, “‘You might wanna hold off on celebrating. Blood moon’s in about six days, after all. Not much point in letting your guard down when it’s just gonna reappear in a few days anyway.’”

Ganondorf frowns, confused. “What is a blood moon? I am afraid we’re not familiar with this phrase.”

The man snorts and makes a few more gestures. The woman speaks again. “‘What, are you-’ Link, I’m not translating that,” she mutters in Hylian, shoulder checking him. Ganon keeps his face carefully blank. “Don’t be rude.” The man, Link, makes a few more gestures- sign language, it must be- accompanied by a frown. “No, I know that. They must not happen yet. That’s then and this is now.” Curious phrasing. Link rolls his eyes. “Don’t fucking sign at me in that tone of voice.” Renaste snickers quietly, and it’s all Ganondorf can do to not also crack a smile. Attractive, capable, and intriguing, too. His mind is already moving a mile a minute, thinking of the ways they moved and the skill they showed and trying to craft a reasonable excuse to get the two to travel with them to his kingdom. By Dinraal, if even his three bodyguards could absorb something by just watching these two move his whole army would be better off for it, never mind if he actually got them into the palace and in front of his captain. 

“Don’t worry about it,” the woman finally says, again in Gerudo. “Our mistake. If that’s all, we really must be going-”

“Oh but you can’t!” Senef cries, leaning around her king to take part in the conversation. “It’s almost sunset, and the plains will be crawling with Stalfos! You must come and share our campfire and a meal, it’s the least we can do after you saved us from that terrible beast!” She gives him a subtle wink, and he returns the barest hint of a nod. They’re on the same page, then.

Letting these two warriors slip away would be a folly, one he’s not willing to commit.

* * *

Zelda hooks her pinkie into the curve of Link’s gauntlet, keeping in contact with her companion even as he turns and lets out an ear splitting whistle. Their horses, a spotted bay mare named Epona and a solid black stallion named Gemino, trot over the hill, nickering and nudging at Link’s chest like they always do. He pulls out an apple and an Endura carrot for each of them. She smiles fondly, forgetting for a moment that her mask is down. Soft bastard. When she turns back around, she feels the Gerudo man’s gaze on her, tracing along the curve of her face with his sharp, topaz eyes. She forcibly keeps herself from tensing. Her hand drops.

They pull their masks back up at the same time.

The two of them mount up, Zelda on Gemino and Link on Epona, and pull their horses alongside the Gerudo party, who are also getting ready to ride. Zelda automatically grabs her bow and nocks an arrow, ready to draw but for now content to hold it loosely in front of her while she steers Gemino with her knees. Link, in front of her like usual, has his shield ready on his arm and his sword loose in its scabbard, one hand on Epona’s reins. She knows he could be standing in the saddle with absolutely no way to direct Epona and she would still follow his commands. The man has a way with animals that she just can’t replicate, no matter how much she’s improved at riding over the last three weeks.

She can feel the eyes of their temporary companions taking them in, flitting between their easy stances and their drawn weapons and the relaxed nature of the horses. They don’t let their expressions change.

“Interesting way to ride, that,” one of the three guards calls to them. It’s the one that had translated for the Gerudo man, earlier. She speaks in  _ Gerudo  _ now, they all do.

“Is it,” she says flatly, eyes tracing the canyon walls for threats as they all pick up and actually start moving forward. The guard doesn’t respond to her.

They end up riding next to the two veiled, elderly women, keeping pace just half a step in front of them. The one dressed in red lets out a cackle. “Good to be prepared, girl!”

“Don’t let your guard down!” The lady in blue exclaims, letting out an identical laugh.

Zelda doesn’t smile or take her eyes off the canyon walls, but she does nod. They let out another barking laugh and lean their heads together, muttering to each other in the way old women do. Zelda feels a spark of nostalgic longing, remembering the sound of the waterfall of Kakariko village. She shoves any thoughts of Impa out of her mind.

The canyon provides shade they wouldn’t otherwise have and she’s grateful, because her champion blues don’t do anything to provide any sort of heat resistance. The sun is going down too, another unexpected boon. If it were any earlier in the day they’d be cooking alive. Her slate says it’s almost 7:30pm. She’s glad they chose to travel during the evenings in the days and weeks before this. Otherwise she would have been flagging long before they had to kill that Lynel. She almost snorts at the thought. What an unexpected annoyance.

It really is just that, too. An annoyance. She’d had no idea how much weaker monsters were now, without an active calamity to draw strength from and no blood moon to keep replenishing their forces. In their time, Link and Zelda would have had to sneak and take potshots at a  _ blue  _ Lynel. Going head to head with a silver or even a black would have been unthinkable in their present. Tantamount to suicide. Now, though, now they were like fighting a Moblin or a group of Lizalfoes. Annoying and dangerous if you weren’t careful, but easy to thwart and even easier to kill. It was… boring. She isn’t sure if she’s thankful or not.

“-our name?”

“Hmm?” she asks, dragged back to the present by the voice of another one of the guards. Not the same one from earlier, but the excited one that looked similar in face. Sisters maybe?

“What’s your name, Hylian?” the woman asks, almost bouncing in the saddle. She seems like the excitable sort, Zelda muses, smiling slightly.

“I am Zelda,” she says, dipping her head in lieu of a bow. “This is Link, my companion.” He tosses a wave over his shoulder, not bothering to look behind him.

“Isn’t the princess of Hyrule named Zelda?” The third guard asks, flicking her eyes between them. Zelda keeps her face and body impassive through sheer force of will.

“She is,” Zelda says, mostly naturally. “It’s a very common name for women in Hyrule.” The guard hums but doesn’t reply.

“I’m Senef!” The excitable guard exclaims. She gestures to the one who had commented on Zelda’s riding. “That’s my twin sister Renaste,” and then to the third guard, “and our older sister Nimaul.” Link slows, just a bit, until they’re riding next to each other.

‘Who are the rest?’ he signs. Zelda translates for him.

“These are the honored Queen Mothers, Koume and Kotake, our people’s strongest mages,” Nimaul states, a hint of pride coloring her voice. “And of course, His Majesty King Ganondorf, leader of the Gerudo people. Obviously.”

She can’t help the short, sharp glance she shares with Link. They can’t hide from the keen eyes of the Queen Mothers though, sharp as they are in their old age.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t recognize our son,” Kotake exclaims, peering at them from under her wrinkled brow. “He’s known far and wide, even amongst your people!”

“Have you been living under a rock?!” Koume asks in the same tone of voice.

Zelda and Link exchange another glance. Link snorts and signs, ‘Something like that.’ They look forward again and, lo and behold, catch the eye of the King himself, who it seems was paying more attention to their conversation that he had appeared. ‘Your Majesty,’ they nod at him, in sync. So many of the things they do these days are in sync. Zelda wonders sometimes if they’re actually separate people anymore.

The King nods back, topaz eyes shining in the last rays of the sun, but says nothing. He turns back forward, leaning down to converse quietly with Nimaul, and that’s the end of their conversation for a long while.

* * *

“Someone’s got a cruuuush,” Nimaul whispers to him, grinning like a loon.

“Shut up,” he grumbles, spurring on his horse. She snickers but says nothing else.

A crush, like some sort of child. He rolls his eyes. Indeed.


	2. Local Monarch Fucking Bewildered, Sources Say. Just Completely Confused

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this has been sitting in my docs for a HOT minute but i'm desperate to get as much stuff out as I can before my motivation juice abandons me once again so here y'all go i guess
> 
> The Legend of Zelda belongs to Nintendo. If I owned the franchise do you think I would be writing fanfiction. Do you.
> 
> drop me a line over at my tumblr, @purple-sea-dragon!! it's my most active social media, so if you've got questions or just want to yell at me that's where i'm most likely to be. love y'all!!

They pull up to the stable, well into the grip of nightfall. Link, unwilling to waste even a moment, hands Epona’s reins to Zelda and dismounts, summoning a bow from his slate and slinging it over his back. ‘Hunting,’ he signs to Zelda, and with her nod of affirmation he takes off from the group, towards the cliffside a hundred or so meters away. The quarry is several times smaller than it would be in the future but it’s still easily climbable, and he intends to snag a couple wolves worth of meat up on the plateau.

“Where is he going?” one of the guards asks, but by the time Zelda turns to reply he’s already out of hearing range. He slings his shield onto his back and sheaths his sword and hoists himself over the first ledge with minimal effort. With the sure-footedness of a mountain goat, he flips and vaults and scales the sheer rise of sandstone in a matter of a minute or two. The plateau looks almost identical to its future counterpart. Some things just don’t change as quickly as others, he supposes.

He encounters a pack almost immediately, resting next to a boulder just a hundred or so feet from where he pulled himself up from the cliff. Their eyes glow with malice in the light of the moon as they jump to their feet and begin to circle him, kicking up circles of dust. Fine by him, he muses, and uses the unnatural shine as a target, felling two of the wolves with well placed shots through the eye sockets. The third yelps and turns tail. He lets it go. He drops to his knees and skins the carcasses with practiced motions. He wraps the meat in the pelts and tossing the bones to the side, where they disintegrate in a burst of purple smoke. Then, he secures the packages to his back with a bit of rope. Sure, he could put them in the slate, but- well. Food always tastes a little bit weird, once it’s been in of the slate. A little bit static-y, like it wasn’t sure how to be completely physical anymore. It goes away with cooking, but Link prefers to avoid it in the first place, if at all possible. He turns back to the cliffside, intent on making his way back to the group, but freezes at the sound of shifting earth and clattering bones behind him. He whirls around, bow ready in an instant, and sees three Stalkoblins forming behind him. He snorts. Typical.

They hiss at him, charging forward with clubs raised. Link dodges nimbly to the side, kicking out shin bones and kneecaps and watching dispassionately as they collapse, chattering their teeth angrily. He doesn’t give their skeletal bodies a chance to reform, planting an arrow in each skull and slinging his bow onto his back once again as they disappear. He grabs the horns left behind and leaves the other bits and pieces to their fates under the moonlight.

Zelda is waiting for him at the bottom of the cliff, hands clasped behind her back and staring up at him expectantly as he appears over the edge and makes his way down, lighting fast. “Any trouble?” she asks, serene, as he straightens up from a crouch and sends his bow back to the slate.

‘No.’ They make their way back to the stable together, shoulders occasionally brushing. The moonlight shines on her short hair, turning the usually golden strands a peculiar silver. He remembers how determined she’d looked when she asked him to cut it. ‘Two wolves. Three stalkoblins. Waste of arrows.’ She smiles fondly.

“I wonder if Mister Beedle’s ancestors have set up shop yet,” she muses. “We can’t afford to use all of your arrows if we can’t get more.”

‘Tough as beetles,’ he signs with a smile. ‘Every timeline. Surprised if they haven’t.’

She laughs brightly, the sound carrying back to camp. The pair of them catch the eyes of their temporary companions, the three guards agog as he slings the bundles of meat and fur off his back and drops them next to the campfire.

“That’s a lot of meat,” Senef says, poking one of the bundles. Link shrugs, feeling the sharp gaze of the king on his masked face. He ignores it. If the guy isn’t going to do anything, Link isn’t gonna make a big deal out of it. He's gotten worse reactions for less out of travelers in their time, and he knows their behavior up until this point hasn't exactly been standard.

‘Big wolves,’ he signs. Zelda translates for him, and the Gerudo laugh. Link settles in front of the cooking pot, taking the spoon from Nimaul and pulling his mask down slightly to taste the vegetable mixture she has simmering. He makes a face, pulling his mask back up and taking out some rice and Goron spice from his slate, commandeering the dinner preparation without bothering to ask. Judging by Nimaul’s relieved face, he doesn’t think she minds in the slightest. He hands her one of his hunting knives and points her at the meat, and she sits back on her haunches and starts carving it into chunks for him. They work rather well together, all things considering, companionably silent even as Zelda charms their new party and leads conversation. A few minutes later, he has a respectable meat and vegetable curry simmering in the pot. He holds the spoon out to Nimaul and she takes a mouthful, humming delightedly at the taste.

“Are you going to keep the pelts?” He looks up, meeting Senef’s interested face. He shrugs.

‘Don’t need them. Yours if you want.’

She shakes her head. “I don’t know what I would even do with them. I don’t know how to tan leather, and I don’t know anyone who does.”

He cocks his head and a moment later pulls the pelts towards himself, palming his knife back from Nimaul and motioning Senef closer at her curious look. She sits cross legged next to him, peering over his shoulder as he lays one skin in front of himself and motions for her to do the same. He pulls a second, smaller knife out of his boot and hands it to her, showing her how to hold it, and then he painstakingly runs the flat of his own blade over the inside of one skin, scraping off fat and leftover muscle fibers and piling them on the ground. He adjusts her grip a few times and pats her shoulder when she accidentally nicks through the skin. Once he feels the pelt is clean enough, he taps her wrist to get her to stop and then whistles at Zelda to get her attention.

‘Need two salt,’ he signs.

"What's the magic word?" she sing-songs at him. He flicks a rude gesture at her, and she rolls her eyes at him. "You're so uncouth," she grumbles to herself. He snorts.

In a few moments she has her slate in her hands, and then a second later he catches the two lumps of salt out of the air, each roughly the size of a voltfruit. He throws a rough 'Thanks' at Zelda, who nods back, returning to her conversation with the two old women. He hands one salt lump to Senef and shows her how to break the mineral in her hands without losing any to the dirt, rubbing it into the skin.

She screws up her face. “It’s goopy,” she mutters. He huffs a laugh, and then they work in silence for a while. He finishes first, folding his pelt up and tying it with a strip of sinew, and then shuffling across from Senef and helping her work the salt into her skin until they are both finished. She folds her pelt up as well, tying it and setting it next to his. She hands him his knife back, and he wipes it off before stowing it back in its ankle sheath. He brushes the dirt off the pile of loose fat and scoops it into a bottle from his slate, letting it vanish back there. They'll need it tomorrow, to make the leather flexible.

"Now what?" She asks. He glances over, but Zelda is deep in conversation so he turns and traces Gerudo letters into the dirt.

'WAIT TOMORROW'

She nods, and then Nimaul is pressing bowls of curry into their still dirty hands. Senef makes a face that has her sisters break down into peals of laughter, even Renaste, who faithfully refuses to move more than a few feet from her king. Link smiles despite himself and pours some of his canteen out onto his hands and then a spare cloth, handing it to a grateful Senef, who furiously scrubs away at the blood and fat on her arms.

He stands and moves to sit down by Zelda, tugging his face mask down and shoveling a bite of curry into his mouth. Zelda resettles herself halfway into his lap and scoops a bite of her uneaten curry up for him without even bothering to look away or stop talking to Koume and Kotake. He catches it in his mouth, swallows, and hums two soft notes. She takes the next bite for herself, and that's the end of it.

Despite their unexpected companions, it is, overall, a rather uninteresting night.

* * *

This is the most interesting night Ganondorf has been privy to in quite a few years.

Link and Zelda, if those are their real names, are a puzzle wrapped in a mystery wrapped in an enigma. First of all, they don't know who he is. He's not trying to be arrogant, but realistic. Their battle forms belie their formal fighting experience, which he knows is only available in Hyrule to knights, guards, and ranking nobility. If they're army or nobility then they should know who he is, either through news of his diplomatic voyages to their kingdom or the way their forces have clashed in the past. By Dinraal, if that isn't enough, he's literally the only male Gerudo. That alone is enough to bring him renown, or at least recognition, anywhere he goes. Yet these two Hylians act as if he is just another passing stranger, someone to be noted and then forgotten as soon as their paths diverge.

He watches, as he tends to do when he's found himself on the back foot. Zelda talks polite circles around his mothers with a hint of a laugh in her voice and Link takes over running their camp like it's something he's supposed to do, teaching his guards new skills and saving their collective evening meal, sharing food with and knowledge with the enemies of their nation like its  _ nothing _ .

It's fascinating to watch, the well worn by-play of actions that they don't bother hiding. They're so  _ open _ around virtual strangers.

Link had left the camp almost immediately after they pull up on the stable, letting Zelda catch the reins of his horse and stalking off into the dark with the gait of a predator.

"Where is he going?" Renaste asks, as they all dismount and meander over to the stable window. Zelda queues up behind them, separating herself as a second transaction for the vendor, and he feels a flash of something like approval. Even though he was a king and she travelled under his banner, albeit temporarily, she didn't expect him to provide for their lodgings. He pays for all of their horses anyways.

"Hunting," Zelda answers through her mask, cocking her head and considering him with that piercing gaze, eyes like chips of northern sky. "You did not need to do that."

"I did not," he agrees. Her eyes narrow, but she gives him a short nod after a moment, and leaves it at that. He feels another hint of approval float through him. Not one for false modesty, it seems, nor prone to dragging things out for pride's sake. His opinion of these two Hylians is only improving. It had already risen above his approval of their king, for certain. He manages to not growl at the thought of the oath breaking bastard, and is treated to the sight of Link, bounding up the ledges of the recently established quarry like it's child's play, body slipping over the sheer drops like it was made to fly and not walk. The man leaps up the last ledge, kicking off the wall and flipping himself over his hands in a stunning display of acrobatics, and disappears over the lip of the plateau. Nimaul coughs and he manages to shut his mouth before anyone else sees.

They're hardly settled down by the fire when Zelda stands and walks off into the dark as well. His guards are preoccupied with getting his mothers comfortable, so he finds himself watching again as Link drops down the cliffs, bouncing between rocks and hurtling himself carelessly off ledges with a bored air, like he has either no doubts about his survival or no concern for his own mortality. He meets Zelda by the bottom of the cliff and signs something that makes her laugh, and then they're back, hardly twenty minutes gone for the entire affair. Link slings two wolf pelts filled with meat off of his back, seeming to care not one whit about the blood that stains his cape and gauntlets, and wordlessly takes over the frankly alarming concoction that Nimaul has managed to create and turns it into something that looks and smells delicious. Ganondorf accepts a bowl from Renaste and eats while he watches the Hylian teach Senef how to make leather, and he wonders where the man acquired so many skills. Where did one person get the time? The Hylians snipe at each other playfully, and he nearly chokes keeping down a laugh when Link throws an extremely recognizable and rude gesture at his- partner? Wife? Lover? What are they to each other?

He blinks when his spoon scrapes the bottom of the bowl and wonders when he finished eating.

Nimaul hands him another bowl full. When he looks up, Zelda is sitting in Link's lap and she's feeding him over her shoulder while she holds a conversation with his honored mothers, who look delighted in their gossipy, old woman way. They look relaxed, like being curled around each other is the most natural thing in the world. Link rests his head on Zelda's shoulder, eyes half-lidded like a particularly pleased cat. They're a different color than Zelda's are, he realizes. Slightly darker, less like the edge of the sky and more like the edge of the ocean, deep and unfathomable. Still that precious sapphire, he muses, but maybe from a different vein.

"Are you two married then?" Kotake asks out of nowhere, leaning over her hands. He winces. It's not like wasn't just wondering the same thing, but by the sun, at least he had the courtesy to not voice his intrusive questions!

The Hylians simultaneously cock their heads, staring at her in confusion. "I'm not sure what gave you that idea," Zelda says slowly, even as she swipes a bit of sauce off the edge of her bowl and pops her finger into Link's mouth. Ganondorf clenches his free hand in the grass to keep himself from doing something he’ll regret later.

'Not married,' Link signs. 'Complicated.'

"Ohoho, complicated is it?" Koume exclaimes delightedly, sniffing out potential scandal like a bloodhound. "And what does that mean?"

Zelda narrows her eyes. "It means it’s not your business," she says slowly. Ganondorf nearly shivers, unsure if it's caused by the further chilling night air or the ice creeping into her tone.

"Mother," he says quietly, catching the quartet's attention and halting the potential violence brewing in the air. He quirks an eyebrow.

She stares at him incredulously.  _ Are you really going to make me apologize to two common Hylians over something like this? _

He stares back and pointedly raises one eyebrow.  _ Yes. I am. _

They break eye contact. Koume grumbles but bows her heat at the Hylians. "My apologies, you two. This nosy old woman sometimes goes too far."

Link stares them down a moment and then signs something, drawing a finger through the air above his nose, and holding his hands far apart, and- oh,  _ that's funny. _ His mothers seem to think so too, letting out their signature cackles. Ganondorf lets out a chuckle at that one and Link catches his eye, and the world just- stops.

He underestimated what it would feel like to have that intensity trained on him. It's like a lightning strike right through his nerves down to his gut. Link is attractive. Zelda, too. The firelight makes their skin shine, like someone had brushed gold dust over their cheeks. Ganondorf has been staring at them all evening, and he already  _ knew _ they were pretty, so why is the revelation only hitting him now? They’re Hylians for the goddesses’s sakes, the most they should garner from him is stoic indifference. He knows he should turn away, that he shouldn’t push whatever this is-

Well. It’s not actually anything, is it? His fingers clench again in the short, dry grass. Link and Zelda are a pair of attractive, powerful, wild Hylians that saved his ass today, travelling under his banner at his behest and his alone. The three of them are practically strangers, and really, as long as nothing comes of it, what’s the harm in looking? Ganondorf has looked at many an attractive stranger. This is no different, he tells himself, as he settles his weight back and lets his eyes linger on Link’s own. There is no harm in acknowledging the truth. Link and Zelda are attractive to him, and he is  _ slightly _ interested in them because of that. Nothing more.

Link blinks once, slowly and flashes what might be a smirk at him, half buried as it is in Zelda’s shoulder. The firelight glints off one exquisitely sharp fang, and Ganondorf swallows, mouth suddenly drier than the air around them.

He’s only looking.

* * *

Senef might be the youngest guard in her squad, but that doesn’t mean she’s stupid. Sure, she’s not so great at anything that isn’t spear-work, and she has a hard time focusing some times, and  _ maybe _ she can be a little bit too trusting sometimes and it occasionally comes back to bite her in the ass, but none of those things makes her an idiot. She’s observant out of necessity, and she’s good enough to be on the king’s personal guard rotation, and she feels like people forget that sometimes just because she’s a little less stoic and reserved than they think she ought to be. She’s a happy person, dammit, what’s the problem with letting that show?

Whatever, she’s getting off track. The fact of the matter is that Senef is not an idiot, but even if she was, she would be able to see the spectacularly massive crush that her king has on the Hylians. She doesn’t know what’s worse, the fact that the king has a crush in the first place (which is new, she’s known Gan since they were kids and he’s shown interest in others before but not like this), or the fact that the idiot thinks he’s being  _ subtle about it _ .

He isn’t. He really, really isn’t. The man can barely keep his eyes off the Hylians, which- yeah, fair, even Senef can admit they’re gorgeous and she’s never felt a sliver of attraction for anyone in her whole life. But the level of fascination Ganondorf is exhibiting is profoundly new, and that worries her a little bit. Pretty and dangerous has always been Gan’s type, and the Hylians have both in  _ spades _ . But Ganondorf has met plenty of people who are both pretty and dangerous before, and he’s never been so visibly taken as he is by these two. He’d made his mothers  _ apologize  _ last night, over a simple slightly invasive question. He’d let them get away with more at the diplomatic meeting at Hyrule Castle they had just attended.

She doesn’t think he knows that he’s doing it, which is almost as bad as doing it on purpose. His eyes had followed them ceaselessly last night, from the moment they rode into the stable. She had watched him as he watched them with muted heat and approval, from his conversation with Zelda to Link teaching her how to make leather- which she’s so excited about, by the way, it’s so fun to learn new skills even if the idea of sticking her hands in that goop again makes her cringe. For Dinraal’s sake, he’d physically paused halfway through eating when his mothers had asked if the Hylians were married to each other. She’d seen the way his hand had clenched in the grass when Link licked Zelda’s fingers. That was the Ganondorf equivalent of sitting up and wagging his tail like a whining pup. She couldn’t have missed him eye-fucking Link last night if she’d been  _ blind _ .

It’s worse in the morning.  _ Somehow _ .

Zelda and Link are up first when they exit the stable, masks down around their necks and backlit by the early dawn. She hears Gan’s breath catch in his throat like a lovesick teenager and rolls her eyes, privately. Zelda’s sitting in front of the fire, tending to a pot full of what looks like a stir fry, poultry and mushrooms and some miscellaneous herbs and vegetables in a savory sauce. There’s several loaves of freshly baked bread sitting on a cloth next to the fire, which they pass out as they shuffle into the barely-there light. Her hair is down, falling in soft waves around her jaw, and Senef thinks its suits her. 

Ganondorf apparently thinks so too, seeing has he can’t fucking tear his eyes away from her.

Link appears with an arm full of firewood and feeds it into the flames as the Gerudo continue to wake up. Nimaul vanishes back towards their bags and appears with a canteen full of water for each of them. Zelda waves her off with a gentle smile, handing her bowls full of breakfast to pass out. Link settles behind her, on his knees, and begins braiding her hair in the crown-wrap style she had worn yesterday. His hair is also out of its tie, hanging down to his shoulders, and she can see the bare tips of his ears poking out from the strands. Zelda tears a hunk of bread off her loaf and scoops up some meat with it, holding it up behind her head. Link, both hands still entwined in her hair, catches it in his mouth, teeth just barely grazing her fingers. They continue like that, feeding and grooming simultaneously, seemingly unaware or completely uncaring of the eyes that follow their every interaction.

Senef doesn’t know what’s up with the feeding each other thing they Hylians have going on, and don’t get her wrong, it’s cute! She just wishes it were a little less cute, because then Gan would actually be eating and not staring, and then she wouldn’t have to look at Gan trying not to stare but failing. She keeps herself from elbowing him in the ribs, but Renaste has no such inhibitions. 

She resigns herself to whatever kind of embarrassment Ganondorf is going to bring upon himself throughout the day and turns her full attention to her breakfast.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Drop a comment if you enjoyed, please.
> 
> Hit me up on tumblr @purple-sea-dragon if you have any questions or if you just wanna scream at me


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